


The Many Faces of Captain Jack Harkness

by AidenFlame



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt Ianto Jones, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NSFW, Rape, References to Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Sexual Violence, Sleeping Pill abuse, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidenFlame/pseuds/AidenFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ianto is attacked in the Hub by an unknown assailant, he tries to keep his shame hidden. However, it isn't long before the others find out. And Capitan Jack Harkness wants revenge. Slash. Man on Man. Gay. Ianto/Jack, Janto. </p><p>This is on hiatus, likely at least until I've finished my Achievement Hunter fic 'A Thousand Miles' <br/>It's not abandoned though, and I promise I will finish it. I have it all planned....just....other things kinda got in the way.... I'm a bad person :(</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee with Extras

Ianto Jones smiled slightly as he stepped through the sliding cog that was the ‘front door’ of the Hub. The whirring of machinery at work was a comfort to him. No matter what insane and dangerous things the rift threw at them, that noise was a constant. Day in, day out, that sound started off the working day; granting him access to wonders the people walking miles above could never even begin to imagine! Aliens, monsters, temporal anomalies....and _him_.

He bent to pick up the newspaper on the floor- the boss was already here then, and as untidy as usual. Ianto skimmed the front page as he strode over to the coffee machine, auto piloting around the various obstacles between.    
Still reading the paper, he got to work making the usual beverages. It might seem like a trivial task, but Ianto knew that without their coffee, the Torchwood team would descend into chaos.  The machine clunked and spluttered as he pulled the handle. He tutted at it, but turned the page of the paper and continued reading.  Temperamental thing.  He felt a sort of pride in his ability to be able to get it to actually produce palatable coffee, as getting it to even turn on required a knack that it appeared only Ianto possessed.

As he folded up the paper and turned his full attention towards the coffee maker, he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his lower back, but before he could even gasp, a hand came from behind and covered his mouth.   
Another hand grabbed his wrist and forced it painfully over his head, causing Ianto to bend over. He felt the owner of the hands press up to him. Ianto immediately realised that the assailant was male and humanoid. He could feel his arousal pressing into the small of his back.   
His hands were roughly and -even in his terrified state, Ianto had to admit- skilfully tied behind him; judging by the hand still preventing him from screaming, his attacker managed to achieve this using only one hand.  Suddenly, Ianto’s legs were taken out from under him, and he hit the floor. He tried to sit up, but his attacker was holding him down. His face was roughly forced into the ground. Hot angry tears escaped from his eyes as his cheek made contact with the cold floor, and a gag instantly replaced the hand covering his mouth. He felt the attacker reach around his waist and undo his belt and trousers. Panic truly over came him as he realised what was about to happen, and desperately he struggled to escape; almost choking on the silky piece of material in his mouth as he attempted to yell for Jack. The assailant pressed harder into his spine, until Ianto had no choice but to comply and remain still, or have his back broken.  He closed his eyes and tried to blot out what was happening as his trousers were slipped down around his ankles, followed swiftly by his boxer shorts.  He could feel the attacker positioning himself at his unwillingly spread entrance, nails biting into the flesh of his hips keeping him from struggling free. As he was entered tears of anger turned to despair.  The searing pain shot up his spine with every unwanted thrust. To try and ease his shame, Ianto tried to imagine it was Jack inside him. But even the roughest shag with Jack was nothing compared to this pain. He realised the attacker had used no lubrication, so Ianto could feel every thrust. As much as he tried to distract himself, nothing could dull the agony.

Ianto’s silent sobs caused his body to shake, and this seemed to arouse the man violating him further, as with each shudder, Ianto heard a sharp intake of breath, and felt the thrusts become harder and faster and deeper as the invading member tore into him.  Ianto heard a grunt and felt the attacker’s body shake as he climaxed inside him.   
Relief washed over Ianto, as the offending member withdrew. The man slowly slid down Ianto’s body, as if to draw out his ordeal even further. The nails that had dug into his hips released, leaving little bloody half moons in his skin. Ianto felt teeth sink into the tender flesh of his inner thigh, but with his violated entrance still throbbing from the assault, the pain that should have accompanied it barely registered.  
Ianto became aware that he was still lying on the floor with his trousers and underwear around his ankles, and his body weight was putting uncomfortable pressure on his genitals. His hands were no longer bound, and he was alone. He shakily got to his feet, using the coffee machine for support. He pulled his trousers up, and re-secured them with his belt. Picking up the newspaper from where it had been knocked to the floor, he whipped the tears that were still falling from his eyes.

A hand touched his shoulder. He whipped around, eyes closed, yelling at the top of his voice, lashing out with the newspaper.   
“WOAH, Ianto, take it easy.” Chuckled a familiar voice  
“Jack!” rasped Ianto.   
He flung his arms around the American man’s waist, burying his face into his blue shirt.   
Jack stroked the younger mans hair and pulled away slightly, looking into his lovers tear stained face.   
“Yan, what happened to you!?” He cried  
Ianto took a deep breath, and opened his mouth to tell Jack everything, but the words choked him. The shame was too much to bear. He knew that Jack’s eyes would flood with pity and pain if he were to find out. He would never look at him the same way again. And he would tell the others; vow to find the being that violated _his_ ‘Yan-Yan’. Then they would all look at him with pity, drown him in their sympathy. He couldn’t take that, not after enduring all those ‘reassuring’ pats and glances after Lisa died.   
He looked Jack in the eyes  
“Nothing, Sir.” His voice was croaking and wavering. He cleared his throat. “Just a cold most likely, nothing I can’t handle.”  He flashed Jack the shy yet cheeky grin he knew the American loved.   
Jack smiled back at him, still slightly concerned, but greatly reassured.   
“Well it looks like a slow day for rift activity, nothing except a couple of weevil sightings.”   
Ianto turned back to the coffee maker, which was now whistling shrilly. Jack draped his arms over the Welshman’s shoulders and nibbled his ear gently.  
“Maybe, I can send the others out to round them up, and we can have some fun..?” He whispered suggestively between nibbles.   
Ianto had to strain to suppress a shudder as the feeling of the unknown attacker’s breath on his neck flashed through his mind.   
He carried on making the coffee.   
“Whatever you feel is best, Sir. You are the boss after all.” He replied, as normally as possible, trying to emulate his own usually chirpy voice.       
“You better believe it.” Jack growled, using the deep sexy voice Ianto usually found so arousing.

“Jack? You in?”   
Ianto heard the whir of the cog sliding aside as Gwen entered the Hub.    
“We’ll continue this later” winked Jack, slapping Ianto on the behind as he walked towards Gwen.  
Pain shot through Ianto once again at the unexpected, jolting contact, causing him to gasp. Jack winked again, mistaking Ianto’s pain for arousal.   
“That’s sexual harassment Sir.” Ianto grinned through his pain.   
“So file a complaint!” Jack retorted, striding into his office.

Once he was sure Gwen was occupied and Jack was safely out of sight, Ianto hobbled to the bathroom and locked the door.   
Blood and seamen was flooding down the back of his legs. Breathing through the pain, he cleaned himself up as best as he could. He would be carrying the seed of that monster deep within him all day until he was able to soak in the bath at home. Realising this, the full horror of what he had experienced hit him. His stomach leapt into his throat, and he emptied its contents into the toilet bowl, heaving until he was spitting bile.  He collapsed in a heap on the cold tiled floor, and drew his knees to his chin, sobbing and screaming. He knew no one could hear him; the bathroom was soundproof for some reason –Jack had never explained why.  
He wanted to go home. He wanted to go to Jack. He wanted Jack to hold him in his strong arms and make him feel safe again. He wanted to lay on this floor forever. He wanted to cease to exist.

But the others would come looking for him. Tosh and Owen would be in soon.

Numb, the shell of Ianto Jones pulled himself up and washed his face, removing evidence of his anguish. He looked into the mirror. Blank eyes looked back at him.   
He took a deep breath, and forced his face into a smile. He did it when covering up Lisa. He could do it now. Time to put on the cheerful, care free Ianto face.

He walked out of the bathroom, and carried on making coffee.


	2. Keeping up Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack isnt exactly understanding.  
> Warning; More explicit rape and violence.

Ianto paused outside the boardroom door.  Everyone was already assembled and seated inside, and Jack had started the rift activity speech. He took a deep breath. So far he had avoided the others, giving him time to work on his mask. If they noticed even one thing out of the ordinary with his behaviour, they wouldn’t let it go until he cracked and his shameful secret would tumble out. Holding the trey of hot beverages, he pushed through the door, wincing his still throbbing behind came into contact with the cold metal.   
“One vanilla late for Tosh, Owen, your black-one-sugar, mocha for Gwen aaaand hot chocolate with sprinkles and mini marshmallows for the boss.”  Ianto smiled as he dealt out the appropriate orders; careful not to let his face show the pain that ricocheted through his body each time he bent to place a mug on the table top.   
“Just in time, Ianto, pull up a seat. Wanna get this over with.”  
Ianto stared at the chair Jack had indicated to. He felt his knees tremble and his face visibly pale. He can’t sit down! Bending down caused pain that was almost too much for him to bear; there is no way he could sit down without the others knowing there was something majorly wrong.   
“If it’s all the same, Sir, I’d prefer to stand.” Ianto smiled at Jack.   
Jack tilted his head quizzically, but nodded.   
“Pins and needles.” Ianto grimaced, guilty at how easily he found it to lie to Jack.   
Jack seemed satisfied.   
“Right. There doesn’t seem to be much rift activity occurring, just the usual –Weevils spotted in alleyways, shop doorways, the usual places. Gwen, Owen; want you to round them up and send them back to the sewers. No need to bring them in.”  
Owen and Gwen nodded.   
“Toshiko, I need you down in the archives. There was a rift spike in the hub earlier, but not one we’ve ever seen before. It only lasted a second, but I’d like you to check the records; see if there has been anything like it before.”  
“The archives, Sir? Sure you don’t want me to do that? I do know them better then Tosh –better than anyone.” Ianto panicked. He knew why Jack was sending Tosh down to the archives. It would take her hours just to find the right section.   
“No, I need you up here Ianto. Your local knowledge might be useful in checking for more Weevils.”  
Jack winked at him. He forced himself to smile coyly. The others were dismissed.

“Alone at last” Jack breathed, pressing into Ianto.   
His deft fingers were working their way down the Welshman’s shirt, delicately undoing the buttons. His lips were soft, yet powerful; claiming Ianto’s neck, his teeth leaving little indents on the tender flesh.   
“S-sir.” Ianto stuttered. He didn’t know what to do. He physically couldn’t make love with Jack. He couldn’t!   
He was tainted, unworthy, dirty. And the pain...No, he wouldn’t be able to stand the pain.   
Jack had moved down his body. He was kissing his chest, his hands roaming around, trailing down his spine. Ianto stood frozen. He didn’t know what to do. This was too much. Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much.   
“TOO MUCH!” He shoved his lover with such force that Jack stumbled backwards, and had to catch hold of the table to stop himself falling.   
“Ianto... What’s wrong?” Jack was startled. Ianto had never been violent to him, not like this.  
Their eyes locked. Ianto could see in Jack the hurt and betrayal he had caused. For some reason, this made him angry.   
“Why is everything about sex, Jack?” he fumbled with his shirt, re-doing the buttons.          
“I-Ianto...”  
“We get time alone and all you want is a quick fuck. Is that all I am? Just a shag?” Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. He didn’t know why he was saying these things. He knew how Jack felt about their relationship. “No, how are you Ianto, there’s something different about you today Ianto, I am here for you Ianto. No. It’s all just sex to you!”  
Jack took a step back. He looked like Ianto’s words had punched him in the gut.  
Ianto wanted to take it all back; he wanted to stop and kiss Jack’s lips and be in his strong arms. But it was as if he wasn’t in control of his mouth. He just glared at the floor.   
“I don’t mean anything to you do I?”   
The words were out before he could stop them. He raised his head to look at Jack. He was just stood there, his face frozen in shock. He swallowed.   
“Is...Is that how you really see me? How you see us?”  
Jack tried to meet Ianto’s eyes, but he kept his gaze fixed at the floor again.   
“I see.” Jack cleared his throat. “Well...Tosh probably needs a hand with the archives.”  
Ianto nodded and made towards the door.   
“No.” Jack stopped him “I’ll go. You just...take the rest of the day off. That’s an order.” Jacks voice was cold.   
He stormed out of the room, without a backwards glace.   
“Jack...” Ianto whispered.

He stared into the mirror, water dripping and rolling down his face. Emptying the sink, he buried his head in his hands.   
After Jack had left, Ianto had run to the bathroom. Again, he had spat bile until his throat was raw and his stomach aching. He didn’t know why he had said those things to Jack. He loved Jack. It was as if he wasn’t in control, like he was watching and hearing him hurt Jack, and had been screaming at himself to stop, but no one could hear.   
He didn’t know what to say to Jack to make things how they were. Maybe he was right; maybe time at home was what he needed. A nice hot bath, some toast and day time TV. He might even catch the Paul O’Grady show for once.   
He had filled up the sink with lukewarm water, and splashed his face, trying to wash away the guilt he felt from hurting Jack.

As he stood with his head in his hands, he heard a small click. Before he could turn round, a familiar hand clamped around his wrist, and another grabbed his hair. He was yanked away from the sink, and pushed into the wall. With his free hand, Ianto flailed wildly, attempting to make contact with his attacker; to force him to let go. He tried to turn his face towards to mirror, hoping to see the identity of the man assaulting him, but the hand on his hair forced his head away.   
His face was forced into the wall. A knife was passed in front of his face. With a jolt Ianto realised it was the same knife Susie had used to kill her victims –The Life Knife. Ianto closed his eyes and nodded, showing he understood the wordless threat. No fighting. No telling.   
He kept his eyes closed as he was roughly pulled away from the wall. He was forced to his knees and bent over what he recognised was the toilet. He squeezed his eyes tighter together as his trousers and underwear were removed for the second time in as many hours. He tried to pretend he was somewhere else.  
His legs were being spread and positioned.  
 _He was in bed._  
His face was ground into the porcelain seat of the toilet.   
_In his warm cosy bed with Jack holding him, kissing him, telling him that he loves him_.   
The sharp pain tearing through him once again brought him back to reality. This time there was no gag to suppress his screams of pain and anguish. His yells echoed around the soundproof bathroom.  He cried for the pain to stop, screamed for mercy, begged for Jack. With each yell the unknown man became rougher and each thrust was deeper. Ianto’s pain and humiliation was once again arousing the man further. The grip on Ianto’s hair got tighter, and he could feel roots ripping from his head. He could hear the grunts of pleasure from the man behind him. He wished he could stop screaming; stop giving him what he so clearly wants. He bit down on his bottom lip, attempting to suppress the yelps and cries of agony. The thrusting continued regardless. The assailants’ member tore through him, then retracted, then tore still deeper, penetrating deeper then even Jack had dared. Each thrust was pure agony. With each relentless pound, Ianto could feel darkness closing around him. The invasion was too much for his body and mind to bear. His own fingernails cut into his palms, and he could taste his own blood as the skin on his lip tore beneath his teeth. It was too much.  As he felt himself drifting, losing consciousness, he tried to fight it. He was weak. He can’t pass out. The shame of not being able to prevent this second assault was already humiliating. He didn’t deserve to be on the Torchwood team. He let this stranger claim him in the most intimate and shameful way.   
The darkness was closing. Ianto smiled bitterly. Then again. Who was he going to tell? The darkness was coming. With each agonising thrust, he felt his consciousness drifting further. Sobbing, he embraced it. His sweet release. His escape route. His only way out. 


	3. Windmills of Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ianto tries to forget.

Ianto woke up lying on his back on the cold bathroom floor. A film of blood and semen coated the tiles around his lower body. He was alone. Clearly his attacker had left once he had finished with him.   
He slowly got to his feet, holding onto the sink to support his trembling legs and buckling knees. Taking deep breaths, he straightened up, and collected his clothes together, thankful that the creases weren’t too severe, and no blood had stained his white shirt. At least he didn’t have to worry about explaining anything to the others, should he encounter them on his way out.

Ianto exited the hub, having cleaned up the mess on the floor of the bathroom. His walk home took him by the park he used to play in as a child. He hurried past, blotting out the yells and cries of joy coming from the playground. He was not in the mood for a trip down memory lane.   
Turning the key in the lock, he entered his flat. On auto pilot, he kicked off his shoes and placed them neatly on his shoe rack. His tie was hung on the hook by the coat stand, which supported his blazer and jacket. He made his way to the bathroom, and stripped off his remaining clothes, depositing them in the hamper in the corner of the immaculate room. He locked the door - out of habit rather than as a safety measure- as he ran the bath. He poured some luxury bath soak into the water, watching as the lavender gel congealed with the crystal water. He slid into the now cloudy liquid, gasping slightly at the heat. He lay down and let the water purge every pore of his body, taking a strange satisfaction in the tingling sensation as the scalding water prickled his skin, fascinated as his body reacted to the temperature and became pink and puckered.   
He reached out and grabbed a rough flannel. After dunking it into the steaming bath, he slathered it in shower gel, and began rubbing it into his skin. His thoughts turned to the attack as he began to wash his lower body. There was two deep bite marks on his thighs. Ianto had the strange feeling he had been branded. He felt his assailant violating him over and over in his mind as the rough material bit into his skin, tugging at the cuts left by the fingernails of restraining hands. He scrubbed harder and harder, wanting to get every trace out of the events out of his body, and out of his mind. The attacks played on repeat in his brain. Every detail stuck in his mind in high definition. He could smell the semen. He could taste the blood in his mouth. He could feel the weight and pressure of the attacker on top of him, causing his breath to become short and harsh and ragged. He choked back a yelp of pain, and was brought back to reality.   
His body was red raw, and the skin around his thigh and behind blistering and sore. He had been scrubbing angrily, and hadn’t realised how rough he had been to the abused, sensitive skin. His head dropped into his hands, tears escaping the cage of his fingers, and dripping into the now murky and bloody bathwater. Ianto watched as little oily wells began to form around the ripples created as the salty tears hit the bath soak infused water. A film had begun to develop on top of the bathwater. It glistened, and clung to Ianto’s enflamed skin. The blood leaking out of his many cuts and scratches added a pink tinge to the water, and it reminded him of the bathroom floor after he had woken up laying in ejaculate and his own blood.   
Ianto leaped out of the bath and violently yanked the plug from its hole. He glared at the whirlpool circling around the plug hole with cold eyes, taking a satisfaction as the liquid was dragged away. He stood, eyes transfixed on the plug hole until all that was left in the bath was a slimy coating at the bottom.

He wondered into his bedroom, nude, towelling his wet hair. Although it was only half past one in the afternoon, all Ianto wanted to do now was slide between the sheets of his immaculate double bed, and fall asleep, leaving the memories behind him, and stilling the thoughts cavorting about his brain. He dried off his aching body, and put on a pair of grey silk pyjamas. Even his head was throbbing. He dropped the towel into a hamper identical to the one in the bathroom, and climbed into bed. He took two painkillers from the draw in the bedside cabinet, and swallowed them dry, barely noticing as they scrapped down his throat, leaving a bitter after taste.   
He delicately laid his still damp head on the pillow, not even caring that it would leave a water stain in the green material, and drifted into a restless sleep.

****

“Jack?” Ianto called out uncertainly.   
He was standing outside Jack’s office at the hub. He could hear someone talking inside. Suddenly, all Ianto wanted was to be in Jacks strong arms. There was something about Jack; just being in the same room as him gave Ianto a deep sense of security.   
Eager to tell Jack everything, to have him understand, Ianto ran to the door of the office, and flung it open. He practically bounded into the room.  
He wished he had stayed outside.   
Jack was laid on top of his desk, his face contorted in pure pleasure, as Gwen sat on top of him, her shining, pale body contrasting perfectly with Jacks bronze tanned muscles. Her eyes were closed, her face displaying the pleasure building inside her; her pert white breasts bouncing with the rhythm as she rode Jack to ecstasy. Jacks hands caressed her curves, and his fingers teased her clit, causing her to moan and increase the pace of her thrusts. His hips rose to meet hers, thrust for thrust, until they both teetered on the edge, before spilling over into orgasm together. Their ragged breathing evened as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Ianto felt his knees fail him as Jacks arms –the arms that gave Ianto sure security and strength- enveloped Gwen in their embrace. Hot tears threatened to burst free from Ianto’s eyes as they watched the affection radiating from Jack towards Gwen. He pulled her into a passionate kiss, and she clung to him, her fingers from one hand trailing down his spine, while the other ran through his tussled hair.   
Ianto collapsed to the floor, screaming in torturous agony. He couldn’t believe Jack could do this to him. He thought he had meant something to Jack. True, they had never discussed their relationship, or decided on being monogamous, but Ianto had taken it as a silent agreement between them. The tears escaped their prison, and ran down Ianto’s face. He curled his knees up to his chest - his defence mechanism from childhood- and screamed until his lungs and throat was raw. His fingers carved at his own face, blood and flesh catching under his nails. The warm sticky liquid seeping from the scratches mixed with the tears and left red rivers down his cheeks. He tore at his face, ripping his skin and flesh from the bone of his skull, while Gwen and Jack kissed and laughed in front of him; taunting him, mocking him.

****

Ianto woke up in bed, screaming and drenched in sweat, thrashing and clawing at his face.   
His heart was beating at an extreme rate, and the bed covers were tangled around his limbs. He struggled to push himself free and ran to the bathroom. He halted in front of the mirror, and pawed at his face, turning every which way. His skin was still there. There were faint pink lines down his cheeks and forehead from where his nails had slashed across his face in his distress.  Relief washed over him. Just a dream, that’s all it was. The image of Gwen and Jacks naked, writhing bodies resurfaced in his thoughts, and he turned to the toilet and emptied the bile that had risen into his throat.   
Taking deep breaths, he splashed his face with ice cold water. He took a bottle of sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet above the sink. He needed to rest his exhausted, battered body, without more sleep terrors haunting his mind. He had suffered with nightmares all of his adult life and the majority of his childhood had also been plagued by his own imagination and fears, so he had been purchasing strong sleeping pills online. Owen was his doctor, and he didn’t want an in-depth analysis of his childhood traumas lying around The Hubs medical bay, so he hadn’t disclosed this particular aspect of his life in the medical records.    
Almost crawling back into bed, and straightening the sheets, Ianto took four sleeping pills –twice the recommended dosage- and collapsed into a dreamless slumber.  


	4. Like Wild Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which secrets come to light

Ianto lay on the boardroom floor. His head was pounding, and the rest of his body wasn’t fairing any better. He choked back a sob.   
It had been weeks since the first attack. They happened every day, at least once, but up to six times some days. Since the first few had all taken place at the Hub, he had taken a week off, but then they started happening in his own home. He had gone back to work, simply for something to occupy him. Jack still wasn’t talking to him, except to give him orders.   
He slowly pulled himself onto all fours, wincing at the strain on his legs. As he tried to stand up, he felt the pain shoot up his body, worse than ever before. He couldn’t suppress a yell of agony, and he fell back onto his hands and knees, his breath rasping and fists thumping the ground as he tried in vain to control the pain.

“SHIT, IANTO!”  
He whipped his head around, still on all fours. To his horror, Gwen was stood in the doorway behind him, taking in the scene.   
The carpet around Ianto was stained with blood.The lower half of his body was covered in bite marks, blood and semen.   
She rushed over to him. Ianto grabbed his shirt -which had been ripped off his body, and was now missing several buttons- and attempted to cover himself, even though he knew Gwen had just seen everything. She knelt down beside him, and made to place a hand on his shoulder. He scrambled away into the corner, grabbing his clothes.   
“Ianto...” Gwen breathed “what’s happened love?”  
Ianto chuckled darkly. “You can see what’s happened, Gwen.” He whispered.  
Gwen nodded. She had dealt with a few rape victims in her time as a Police officer.   
“Who?”   
“I don’t know.” Ianto replied truthfully “I’ve never seen his face. He attacked from behind...always from behind.” He closed his eyes and leant back, knocking his head against the wall.   
“...always? This has happened before?” She looked around again. How could Ianto –no- how could ANYONE take this amount of violence and abuse, let alone more than once?   
“No...I mean...” his voice broke, his body racked with sobs. “Gwen, you can’t tell the others. Not a word...If Jack finds out...” words turns to wails as he broke down, clutching hold of Gwen as if he feared he would be lost if he let go.   
Gwen felt tears flood her own eyes as she held the sobbing, broken man in her arms. She stroked his hair and murmured comfortingly in Welsh.

Once again, Ianto Jones found himself in front of the mirror in The Torchwood Hub bathroom, cleaning blood and ejaculate from his body, and tear stains from his face. Gwen had held him tightly, rocking him back and forth, and whispering a Welsh lullaby. She had helped him get to the bathroom without being seen by the others, and had fetched him a clean shirt from his locker. It felt good to have someone know, even if he had purposefully withheld a lot of what he had been going through; he wanted to retain a little dignity at least. He felt a strange combination of relief and deep shame now that his secret was out. He trusted Gwen not to tell anyone, but he knew that she would never be able to look at him without remembering his time of weakness and vulnerability.   
He sighed, stretching his arms out above his head, and winced. God his muscles ached. Weeks of abuse and battering had left his whole body feeling like one big bruise. He pulled a packet of tablets out of his pocket, and popped three into his mouth. He was constantly taking a cocktail of painkillers, anti-inflammatory pills...and he was on his third bottle of sleeping pills.   
He took one last look in the mirror, and straightened his tie. He needed to be presentable. He hadn’t let his appearance deteriorate over the past month, so there was no reason to now, just because Gwen knew his shameful secret. Ianto strode over to the door, and pulled it open; his head was held high, but his hands trembled.   
Gwen and Owen were stood outside the bathroom. Ianto looked at Owens face, and knew instantly that Gwen had told him everything. A quick glance at Gwen confirmed his suspicion; she did not meet his eyes.   
“Ianto.” Owen stepped forward, and held his hand out to pat Ianto on the shoulder.  
Ianto looked into Owen’s eyes and let out a strangled yelp. He rushed back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He lent with his back against it, and slowly slid down into a crumpled heap on the floor, gasping. The sympathy in Owen’s eyes... The _pity_. That’s what he had been afraid of this whole time, the reason he hadn’t told anyone.   
He crawled towards the toilet, dragging himself across the floor to once again empty what little he still held in his stomach. With vomit and bile spewing from his mouth and tears flooding from his eyes from the strain, he didn’t even notice the click as the door was slowly opened.   
He didn’t even notice someone else was in the room with him until a hand lightly touched his back. Ianto spun round, screaming and lashed out, eyes squeezed tightly shut.   
“Ianto! Jesus mate -I didn’t think- I’m sorry.” Owen took a step back, hands up in the universal ‘I surrender’ position.   
Ianto opened his eyes, still sitting on the floor in front of the toilet. He glared at Owen.   
“Gwen...Gwen told you?” Ianto croaked  
Owen nodded, and Ianto saw that pitying look again.   
“I see.” He said coldly. “Everything?”  
Owen nodded again, slowly. “Ianto, I’m-“  
“Don’t Owen. Just Don’t.” He breathed heavily. “Please Owen. I don’t want your pity.”  
Owen bent down and placed a hand on Ianto’s shoulder.   
“Ok. Ok mate, but I need to check you over. I guess you haven’t seen a doctor at all?”  
“No. And I don’t want you ‘checking me over’ either. Just leave me alone. Please.”   
Owen took Ianto’s hand, and looked him in the eyes.   
“Ianto. I NEED to check you over. You may have long term or internal damage, STI’s or who knows what else, seeing as we don’t know who or even what... attacked you. Please mate. Let me help.”  
Ianto closed his eyes, thinking. So his secret was well and truly out. He knew that if he didn’t agree to letting Owen give him a physical examination,  Jack would be told, and not only would he be forced into Owens ‘check up’, but Jack would know how weak Ianto was. He might even take him off the team.   
“Ok.” He whispered, opening his eyes.

Ianto sat on the operating table in the medical bay, his shirt hanging on a hook on the wall. Owen had taken numerous blood samples, swabs, blood pressure tests –the lot. He had answered the majority of the questions truthfully, but with as little detail as he could get away with. Now his heart was pounding. He knew what was coming.   
Owen turned back from his test kit on his desk. “Gonna need you to take the rest off mate.”   
“Are you sure? You can’t just...” His voice trailed off as Owen shook his head “Right. Of course.”  
Ianto stood up, and slowly unbuckled his belt, and dropped his trousers. He heard Owen gasp as he took in the cuts, bites and bruises that covered Ianto’s legs. He folded the trousers, and placed them neatly beside his shoes, which he had already removed. He turned around so he wouldn’t have to meet Owens gaze as he removed his grey boxer shorts, which were still stained from the most recent attack.   
“How many times did you say this had happened?” Owen breathed.  
Ianto remained silent, eyes fixed away from Owen.   
“Lay face down on the table, please.”   
Ianto did as he was told, wincing slightly as the cold metal touched his exposed skin. Owen examined the bite marks on Ianto’s thighs. They were deep, and had bruises surrounding them, covering the majority of his skin. Some were fresh, bright red and still bleeding. Some were slightly older, seeping plasma, but still enflamed and covered in purple bruising. But some were older still; healing, bruises faded to yellow and green.   
“Ianto. You said the attacks started a few days ago. But some of these are weeks old. Tell me the truth, please.”  
“Almost a month.” Ianto whispered. The shame he felt was over powering. Owen, of course, had seen him naked before –he was his doctor after all- but this was different.   
He heard a sharp intake of breath from Owen. He tried to block out what was happening as he was given an internal examination. He had become good at blotting out events over the past few weeks; pretending he was somewhere else.   
Owen dressed the cuts and welts in Ianto’s flesh. He noted that none were infected, so at least Ianto had been attempting to deal with it, and hadn’t just ignored his health completely.  On the other hand, now that he wasn’t wearing his suit, Ianto was looking very thin. Much thinner then he was on his last physical examination. His skin was also blistered and puckered from being scrubbed and practically boiled in bath after bath of scalding water.  Owen also noticed that his patients hands were shaking, and he appeared to be trying to put as little pressure on his stomach area as possible –not an easy feat for someone laying face down on a metal table.  
“You’ve got a lot of rectal fissures, but as they are all only minor, they will heal themselves in time. I need to ask you a few more questions, but I’ve cleaned you up as best as I can, so you can get dressed now.” Owen said as he moved back to his desk, discarding into the bin the latex gloves he had been wearing.   
Ianto sat up, relieved, and pulled on his soiled boxers. After he was once again fully clothed, Owen motioned for him to take a seat. Ianto obliged, begrudgingly. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a patch of skin on his behind not painful to sit on. He failed.   
Owen had a clip board in one hand and a pen in the other. Ianto had the unnerving feeling of being cross examined.   
“Ianto. When was the last time you ate? Properly, not just biscuits in meetings.”  
“I had a sandwich for lunch.” Ianto replied truthfully. No need to mention he had thrown it up less than an hour later.   
Owen eyed him suspiciously.   
“What did you have for dinner last night mate?”   
“I...I had...” Ianto’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember.   
“The night before? When was the last time you had a meal?”   
“I had...I had dinner with everyone at the pub.” Ianto smiled, as he remembered. “Gammon, egg and chips.”   
He noticed that Owen was looking at him with a mixture of shock and pity.   
“Ianto. You were sick not long after that. You said you had a bug.” Owen put his glasses on. “And that was two weeks ago.”  
Ianto’s eyes widened. Was that really the last time he had had dinner? He racked his brain. He had had fish and chips when Gwen had done the food run on a late night rift watch... But he had thrown up half an hour later. He’d made himself a bowl of cereal...but he hadn’t felt like eating it, and had flushed it away. Realisation dawned on him.  
Owen saw his face, and nodded. “Eating disorder. Typical behaviour in your circumstances.” He made a note on the paper attached to the clipboard.   
“What drugs have you been taking?”   
Ianto started. Drugs? Did Owen think he had taken up cocaine or something?  
“Medication.” Owen corrected himself as he noticed Ianto’s confusion. He made a note on his paper again.   
Ianto leant forward slightly to see what he was writing.   
“Diminished alertness? Obsessive self cleaning... Suspected sleeping pill addiction...Classic RTS? STOP TREATING ME LIKE A FUCKING CASE STUDY!”  
Ianto leaped from the table, knocking it backwards, causing it to crash into Owens desk. Medical tools, paperwork and knickknacks clattered to the floor. Owen didn’t even flinch.   
“...and misdirected rage. Ianto, I’m so sorry for what’s happened to you, truly I am. But I need to do my job. Tell me what medication you have been taking.” He expected Ianto’s anger to escalate, but to his slight surprise, the rage in the Welshman’s eyes dulled, and he returned the table to the centre of the room, and sat back down.   
Ianto sighed. “Aspirin, paracetamol, ibuprophen... and alternating between Rozerem and Halcion.”   
Owen nodded, his suspicions confirmed as Ianto listed the sleeping pills.   
“How did you know?” Ianto asked, looking at the floor.   
“Your hands are shaking uncontrollably, and you are clearly having severe discomfort in your abdomen. Both classic signs of over use of sleeping pills. How long have you been suffering with nightmares?”  
“Since I was nine. My dad...my dad used to...well he was violent.  I’ve been taking sleeping pills ever since Canary Warf. They were too vivid. I had to stop them.” Ianto looked so miserable; Owen put his pen down, and sat next to his colleague. “I’ve been taking double the dose, every night since the...since this started. I needed to, Owen.” Ianto looked up at the doctor, his eyes brimming with tears.   
Brushing aside professionalism, Owen slowly put his arm round the trembling Ianto, and drew him into a hug. Ianto’s body was shaking, and Owen could feel the back of his t-shirt getting damp where the sobbing mans tears soaked through it.   
“Ianto...I swear we will catch whoever is doing this. Jack will-“  
“NO!”  Ianto cut him off and pushed him away. He looked desperately into Owen’s startled eyes. “No, Owen. Not Jack. You can’t tell Jack, Please” He looked like he was going to break down again.   
Owen nodded. Of course he wouldn’t want Jack to find out. He should have thought before he spoke, he silently reprimanded himself.   
“Ok. I won’t tell Jack, I promise. But I swear to you mate, Gwen and I will find out who or what is doing this to you, and we will make them pay.” He put his hands on Ianto’s shoulders. The younger man suddenly looked so small and fragile –nothing like the cheerful tea-boy he teased on a daily basis. He suddenly felt a warm rush of affection and respect for Ianto. He had kept up with his duties with a smile on his face during all this horror. He pulled Ianto into another tight hug.

From just outside the medical bay, a crouched figure watched the two men embrace. Its eyes burnt as the doctor pulled the sobbing man closer. So... The medical man was encroaching on his territory was he? He could not claim ignorance; he had seen the bite marks branding the suited man as his mate. Even the male with the blue coat -who seemed to be the leader of this tribe-, had left this one alone. But this man wanted to try and steal his mate, and the young one appeared to be reciprocating?   
The figure let out a shallow guttural growl. He would have to show him who his owner was. And this time; he wouldn’t forget it. 


	5. A Problem Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Owen breaks confidentiality, and Ianto is conflicted.

Owen groaned, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, glaring at the computer monitor. He had been sat at his workstation for the past two hours, trying to hack into The Hub security system, and so far he had gotten absolutely nowhere. He leant forward in his chair, palms pressed together in front of his face as if in prayer. Damn it, he was a doctor, not a computer technician! He stared intently at the screen, willing it to just _let him in for fucks sake,_ but to no avail.

“Owen?”   
He almost jumped out of his skin.   
“Christ Tosh, give a bloke some warning before you sneak up behind ‘em would ya? Almost gave me a bloody heart attack!” he spun round on his office chair and looked up at her.  “What’re you doing here so late anyway? Thought everyone had gone home?”  
 Toshiko was looking past Owen, at his computer screen. “I had, but I was alerted to someone trying to hack into the security network... See, I set up this system that emails me if The Hub network is under attack. It told me the location, and when I saw it was from your computer, I thought I had better come in and check.” She paused, and turned to face Owen. “Why _are_ you trying to access the network?”   
He hesitated, refusing to meet her eyes. “I wanted to check the surveillance cameras.”  
Tosh furrowed her brow, moving to force Owen to meet her confused expression. “Why?”  
“Doctor-patient confidentiality.” He answered smoothly, smiling at her smugly.   
Tosh stared at him, hands moving to rest on her hips, a clear ‘don’t give me that bullshit’ look on her face.   
“Owen. There are over 6 million possible combinations for the access code to get into the network, and another password to get into the camera feed. You can either sit here until you finally guess them, or you can just ask the one person who knows them both. Me.” Now it was Tosh wearing the smug smile.   
Owen glared at her, before relenting with a groan of defeat. She was right, of course. Owen could Google porn as well as the next man, but anything involving hacking, and he was about as much use as a monkey with a laptop. Tosh was the resident computer whizz kid.   
He sighed, stretching his arms above his head and cricking his neck. “Alright, you win. But I was serious about the Doctor/patient thing, so you’re on a need-to-know basis, okay?”   
Tosh nodded, motioning to Owen to allow her access to the computer. He rolled his eyes at her, and relinquished his chair. Tosh blushed slightly as he stood beside her, one hand on her shoulder, his knees slightly bent so his face was level with hers, looking at the screen.   
“Just under a month ago, someone was...attacked. Inside the hub.” He waved his hand to silence Tosh as she open her mouth to question him. “Need-to-know, remember. Anyway, he-THEY- gave me the time, date and location of the attack, so I want to pull up the camera feed covering that time period. See if we can find the bastard who attacked them.”   
Tosh frowned, her fingers dancing over the keyboard as she entered the code, password and information to find the relevant footage. Her frown deepened as she saw the starting frame from the video.   
“Ianto?” she swivelled the chair slightly to face Owen. “Ianto was attacked?”   
Owen cursed himself internally. Ianto would not be happy if Tosh watched this, but he could tell from the determined look on her face that she was not about to just leave him to it.   
He groaned. “Yes, Tosh, Ianto was attacked, but we don’t know who or what by.” He paused, unsure of how much he should tell her. “Tosh...If you’re gonna watch this anyway, I need to warn you, this is not going to be something you will want to see. He was...well he was raped.”  
Tosh visibly paled. “Ia...Ianto...” she whispered, tears prickling her eyes. The young man hadn’t noticeably changed at all recently. Still at work before anyone else, handing out coffee with a smile on his face every morning, always dressed in his customary suit, immaculate as always. Yet he had been harbouring this awful secret for almost a month! She had the almost overwhelming motherly urge to find him, and scoop him up into an enveloping hug; shielding him from pain.   
Instead she turned back to face the screen, hands shaking, as she clicked ‘Play’.

Both pairs of eyes are glued to the screen, horrified by the events playing before them. They watched the attacker step up behind Ianto. They see him wrestle him to the floor. There is no sound attached to the footage, but both can almost hear Ianto’s screams as they see his face contort in pain and despair. They are sickened by what they see, but they can’t tear their eyes away. They watch the attacker straighten himself up, and nonchalantly walk away, without so much as a backwards glace at the defiled man cowering on the floor. Tosh turns and buries her face in Owens chest. His arms automatically wrap around her, and he kisses the top of her head. His face is white, his eyes wide, and his stomach in knots. They stay, frozen, holding each other, neither sure what to say or do.

Behind them, close enough to see the screen, but far enough back that they didn’t know he was there, Ianto Jones stood silently, trembling. His arms were stiff by his side, hands balled into fists, tears running freely down his face. He had watched Tosh play the footage. Had been rooted to where he stood as the start of his personal hell – undeniable proof of his weakness- played on the screen for his friends to see.   
His anguish and shame turned to anger.  
He had seen the person who violated him.  
Seen how he walked away, practically whistling, as if he had done nothing more than wish Ianto a good morning.  

Ianto spun about on his heels, shaking with rage, and walked. He quickened his pace until he was practically running, his vision tinted in his anger, causing him to knock painfully into the desks and chairs in his path. He stopped suddenly outside a door, his breath ragged. He slowly reached out a shaking hand and rested it momentarily on the handle. His breathing evened, and his rage softened slightly. The scenes from the security camera video flashed through his mind, and his expression hardened again.  No. This must be done. His hand curled around the handle, and he ripped open the door to Jack’s office.   
  
He strode in, his face deceptively calm despite the storm of anger and betrayal twisting inside him. He glared at Jack, who was stood at his desk, his back to Ianto. He grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face him. Jack’s calm expression infuriated him further; Ianto had step back in order to restrain himself from punching the American right in the jaw.   
“Jack” he choked. His head slumped in anguish and despair, eyes cast down he was looking at the floor, rather than into the face of his lover-turned- tormentor. Now that he was face to face with him, knowing it had been him all along, Ianto’s thoughts of ranting and raging at Jack- of beating him to a pulp and destroying his pretty, smug face... faltered. He was so conflicted. Jack’s arms made him feel safe and protected. Jack’s arms had pinned him down to prevent him escaping the pain. Jack’s mouth had uttered countless sweet nothings and delivered passionate kisses. Jack’s mouth had bitten deep into his flesh and spewed the grunts of pleasure as Ianto’s had screamed and begged for mercy.  

Ianto looked up.   
As their eyes met, Jack stepped tentatively towards him, not saying a word. They stood almost toe to toe, unspeaking, just gazing into each other’s eyes, soft tears rolling down Ianto’s cheeks. Almost hesitantly Jack reached out a hand, and delicately stroked Ianto’s cheek, brushing away the tears. Ianto shivered, not unpleasantly. His eyes, which had closed at the touch, fluttered open as the hand gently cupped his chin. Ianto stood, enthralled by the penetrating look Jack’s beautiful, mesmerisingly clear blue eyes were delivering. He barely noticed Jack closing the ever smaller distance between them, until his lips were claimed. He opened his mouth to protest, but instead granted entry to Jack’s roaming and eager tongue. Ianto’s resolve melted completely as the Captain’s tongue entwined with and caressed his own and he found himself responding- deepening the kiss. His fists relaxed and his arms tentatively moved from his sides; drawing Jack into a cautious embrace.


End file.
